Tranquil In Tamil Nadu To Find Signs Of Devotion

Amar Grover treks hills and scours temple towns for signs of devotion.

- Amar Grover

The first thing I noticed approaching the town of Gingee was the odd hills— islands of bare rock studding the lush green paddies of rural Tamil Nadu. Proximity soon revealed their whimsical texture with weirdly-eroded granite boulders jumbling their summits and littering their slopes. Then, on the edge of town, I reached a curious triangulation of muscular hills—Krishnagiri, Rajgiri and Chandragiri—linked by the bristling fortifications and stern masonry walls of Gingee Fort. In Tamil Nadu, almost all roads lead to the medieval Cholas, the south’s greatest and most powerful dynasty. I’m here on the road not taken by many to explore the remains of that era—as satisfying a way as any to get under the skin of a state rich insights and culture. I’d left Chennai after a leisurely breakfast to reach Gingee by lunchtime; now it’s atmospheric hills and time-forgotten ruins ushered an afternoon’s exploring.

Spread over approximately eleven square kilometers, much of Gingee comprises a rugged hillside that is home to monkeys, mongooses, and parakeets. I set out up a long flight of steps weaving between boulders to the summit of Krishnagiri. I’m thrilled to have its clutch of part-ruined granaries, temples, and an audience hall almost to myself, with far-reaching views across the entire site. To the south lies Chandragiri, its sparse structures are given sparser access by the Forest Department.

Far more arresting is Rajgiri, its sloping shoulders crowned by a great hulk of smooth rock resembling a giant slightly worn molar. Seemingly inaccessible, it houses Gingee’s lofty citadel—if you only have the stamina for one summit, this should be it. Huddled beneath Rajgiri is the inner fort where I ambled among surviving barracks, stables, stepped tanks and mosques. This enclave’s real landmark is the Kalyana Mahal, a seven-story tower with a pagoda-style roof.